She looked at Levi, resolve flooding through her even more strongly as she met his steady gaze. “You know what, Levi? I think I want to go out.”
His eyebrows popped. “Really?”
“No, I don’t think I want to go out. I know I want to go out. And not through the back door, either. I want to walk right out of here, past the vultures, and go to a nice restaurant where I can sit down and have a healthy meal that isn’t fried twice over or consists mainly of refined carbs—no offense to Southern cuisine.”
“None taken.”
“And I want to stop hiding—stop acting like I have something to hide, because you know what? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Levi’s lips lifted in a smile of wonder. His eyes softened in approval. “All right then. Let’s do this.”
twenty-three
“Ready?” Levi gripped the inn’s front doorknob, adrenaline beginning to surge through him.
Mia had gone to her room to freshen up. No more ponytail. No more ball cap or yoga pants. She was sporting a pair of stylish jeans and a black top with cutout shoulders.
In short, he could hardly take his eyes off her.
“You sure you want to subject yourself to this?” Mia asked him. “You could just loan me your car. I’m a good driver.”
No way was he sending her out there alone. “At least let me get you safely to the restaurant. I can wait for you in the car.”
She looked at him like he was a big dope. “I wasn’t trying to ditch you. I’d love to have dinner with you. It’s just that you’re not used to this, and it can be a little daunting.”
“I think I can handle it.”
“If you’re sure.” She drew a deep breath. “All right then. Here we go.”
Levi exited first. The little horde of photographers snapped to attention at the sound of the door closing.
Ever since the press had shown up they’d kept the porch lights off, so it wasn’t immediately apparent who was coming out.
But the photographers figured it out soon enough. Cameras began clicking in rapid-fire staccato. Flashes lit the night. Levi averted his eyes from the blinding glare.
“Mia, what do you have to say about Jax Jordan’s allegations?”
“What are you doing in North Carolina, Mia?”
“Mia, do you have feelings for Jax Jordan?”
“Mia, did you hurt your foot?”
“Why are you limping, Mia?”
“No comment,” she called in a clear, confident voice, several times. Nonetheless they continued their queries.
Levi led her down the walk toward the group. There was no way around them, so he aimed at a gap closest to his car.
When they reached the throng the reporters pressed in.
One of them got in Mia’s face with his microphone. “Mia, can you tell us—”
“Back off!” Levi blocked the man with a shoulder. He pulled Mia close and barged through the group, shoulder first.
And then the horde was at their backs, following them like stink on a monkey.
“Who’s your friend, Mia?”
“Mia, where are you going?”
“Are you coming back?”
They fired questions one on top of the other.
Levi made a beeline for the passenger side, ushered her in, and got the door shut as quickly as he could. As he jogged around the car the photographers swarmed outside Mia’s window, snapping shots. She stared out the windshield, looking cool and calm, wearing a pleasant smile.
He started the car and put it in Drive, not bothering with his seat belt yet. The vultures surrounded the car, their flashes going off. He should just run them all down. He couldn’t believe this was legal.
He continued forward slowly as the crowd morphed to allow room for his progress. A couple of them hung around after the others moved aside.
“Idiots.” Levi laid on his horn and pressed the accelerator until finally he broke free of them.
He checked the rearview mirror, hoping they wouldn’t follow. But they must’ve gotten what they wanted because they seemed preoccupied with their cameras. They’d probably race to see who could get their shots up on their websites first.
“They’re not following.” He looked over at Mia, but it was too dark to see her expression. “You all right?”
“I’m fine. I’m glad I did it.” She gave Levi a wry grin. “This week’s starting to feel less honeymoon-for-one and more DEFCON 1.”
The humor in her tone relieved him. “That was insane. Is it always like that?”
“Sometimes. Though my life mostly doesn’t beg that kind of attention, thank God.”
“Did you hear the one guy? ‘Mia, did someone hurt you?’”
“I’ve heard worse,” she said. “But now that they got what they wanted maybe they’ll go away.”
It was obvious that pushing through that barricade had been a sort of breakthrough for her. She was almost aglow.
The thought of her leaving tomorrow wasn’t something he wanted to entertain. Somehow, in only a week, he’d gotten used to having her here. And, he admitted wryly, he’d definitely managed to develop a little crush on her. And he’d always said Molly was the fanciful one.
Mia chose an Italian restaurant situated on a quiet lot outside of town. It was a little late for supper, so there were only a few other guests. The hostess seated them at a booth for two in a private corner.
She ordered a chicken Caesar salad, and Levi couldn’t resist the baked mostaccioli. She laughed at their hasty exit from the inn, but Levi was still a little too irritated by the reporters’ nerve to take it so lightly.
When their breadsticks arrived Mia tucked into them, despite her earlier complaint about refined carbs. “Totally worth the calories,” she proclaimed.
“The best in town.”
There was still so much in Bluebell he wanted to show her. Not only restaurants she hadn’t gotten a chance to sample, but some of their popular attractions that had been too touristy for her to risk: Stone Gap Bridge, Pineview Bay, Summit Ridge. She was leaving Bluebell without having really seen it.
“I’m sorry we didn’t find the necklace in the attic,” she said, breaking the moment’s quiet. “I thought for sure it would be up there.”
“At least we found other interesting things.”
“They’re probably worth something, especially the furniture. Still, I really wanted to find that necklace. You should keep looking. It’s a big house. It might be somewhere else.”
“Maybe.” But the thought of continuing the search without Mia left him ambivalent.
“I’ve been wondering though . . .” Mia said. “Could the Livingstons have had a safe deposit box at the bank?”
“Didn’t the journal say that Paul made a safe place to keep it?”
“It said ‘Paul finally arranged a safe spot.’ If they’d put it in a safe deposit box she probably would’ve just come out and said so.”
“I agree. And I can’t see Dorothy putting it in a bank anyway. She seemed like the kind of person who kept the things she valued close to her.”
Mia looked thoughtful for a moment, and Levi wondered if she was thinking about her mother, clear across the country from Dorothy.
“I think you’re right,” she said finally. “But what about a safe in the house?”
“I’m sure we would’ve come across it by now.”
He finished his breadstick and washed it down with Coke. Mia sure was intrigued with that necklace. He wondered if that was all she was searching for. Or if finding her grandmother’s necklace was important for reasons other than the sheer value.
He had to admit he was enjoying this little project. Not just spending extra time with Mia, but also working as a team with her. It felt good to have a partner, especially when it seemed he was flying solo in so many other areas of his life.
“Will you keep looking after I leave?” Her eyes shone with too much hope for the question to come off as a mere inquiry.
He
leaned his elbows on the table, the breadsticks forgotten. “Why does that necklace mean so much to you? I mean, I know it’s worth a lot of money, but . . .” He wasn’t sure how to tactfully point out that she probably had more money than Oprah.
“I know I seem a little obsessed. But I don’t know . . . The idea of finding something rare and valuable . . . It energizes me. Gives me hope.”
She was rare, Levi thought. She was valuable. Sometimes he wondered if she realized just how much.
* * *
Mia changed into her pajamas and readied for bed, exhaustion settling over her like a lead blanket. When she and Levi had returned home from dinner, there’d only been a few photographers in front of the inn. She was tempted to check the online coverage, but that usually only led to frustration.
It was late when she finally got into bed, but her floatplane didn’t leave until ten o’clock. This was her last night at the Bluebell Inn. It was bittersweet. She’d entered this room full of self-pity about the non-honeymoon. But after only a week she could honestly say she was glad Wesley had broken their engagement. Something had been missing.
She gave a wry laugh. Yeah, like love. He’d just been a user, riding on the coattails of her success. As soon as he’d scored a big role he hadn’t needed her anymore.
She waited for the ache of regret, but it never came. Hmm. She must be getting over him.
Mia rolled over in bed, thinking again of Levi and the good conversations they’d had tonight. It seemed easy, opening up to him. Maybe because he was a temporary fixture in her life. Someone she would say good-bye to tomorrow. Her throat went tight at the thought.
How had she gotten attached to him in only a week? She was usually slow to let her guard down. Maybe just knowing the relationship was temporary had led to her being less careful. It was probably best she was leaving now before any real damage could be done.
But the punch in her heart made her realize that she’d already done some real damage. Levi was an extraordinary guy. If he lived in LA she could see the relationship developing into so much more.
But he didn’t. He was determined to make a go of this inn, and when he was finished here, he had his life waiting for him in Denver. There was no future with Levi.
Yes, it was definitely best that she was leaving.
The vibration of her phone woke Mia some time later. She grabbed it and winced at the bright screen. Nolan was calling.
“Hello?” she croaked.
“Hey, Mia, did I catch you at a bad time?”
“It’s after midnight here. I’m in bed.”
“Sorry about that. But I thought you’d want to hear the latest.”
“I hope they didn’t make my injury into something more than it is. They probably already have me and Emma in a catfight over Jax.”
“Not at all. In fact, the narrative has completely changed, Mia. All they’re talking about now is the guy you were with tonight.”
Now she was awake. She sat up on her elbow. “You mean Levi?”
“There’s no name, just photos of you and him.”
“He’s the innkeeper here. He escorted me to the restaurant last night. What do you mean the narrative has changed?”
“Everybody’s wondering who your new boyfriend is. More importantly, they’re wondering how Jax’s statement can be true if you’re secretly seeing someone else.”
“But he’s just the innkeeper. For all they know he’s my bodyguard.”
“Uh-uh. Perception is everything, remember? Have you seen the photos?”
“Um, no. Because you always tell me not to look.”
He chuckled. “I’ll send you a couple.”
“What are you laughing about?”
“Just take a look at the photos. And Mia . . . you should probably stay put for a while. Let’s keep this narrative going as long as we can.”
“You think?”
“I know. Get some rest, kiddo. I’ll touch base with you again tomorrow.”
“Wait, what do you mean, ‘keep the narrative going’?”
But he was already gone.
Mia ended the call and lay back against the pillow. Was Nolan right? Were things swinging the other way just because of a few photos of her and Levi?
The reporters had probably tried to get his identity, but she didn’t imagine the folks around here had been very helpful.
The phone buzzed an incoming text, then another. She checked the screen. Nolan’s photos had come through. The first picture was an image of Levi pushing back the photographer who’d gotten too close. She enlarged it with her thumb and forefinger, trying to see it objectively.
She was turned away from the camera, but still recognizable. Levi’s brows were low and tight over his eyes, his jaw knotted. She wouldn’t want to mess with that guy.
The second photo had been snapped after he’d put his arm around her. She was tucked into his side, her face turned into his shoulder. He was shielding her from everyone, his face intense and protective.
It was obvious he was no bodyguard. They didn’t wear their emotions on their sleeves.
Mia shut off her phone and settled back in her bed, still seeing the image of Levi’s fierce expression. She had a feeling sleep would be a long time coming.
twenty-four
After a poor night’s sleep Levi awakened bleary-eyed to his seven o’clock alarm. He got showered and ready, the scent of apples and cinnamon drawing him to the kitchen. He found Miss Della washing up in the kitchen, her hands dark amidst the soapy bubbles in the sink.
He drew in a breath of scrumptiousness. “I could eat a dozen of your muffins this morning.”
“Well, you’ll have to wait till they’re out of the oven at least.” Her eyes narrowed on him. “You look tired. Headache again?”
“Just didn’t sleep well.” Although, now that she mentioned it, he did already have a headache blooming at the back of his skull. He helped himself to coffee.
“Our girl’s leaving today?”
He liked how Miss Della had taken to Mia. But Mia was easy to take to. “Skeeter’s picking her up at ten and flying her to Charlotte.”
“You must be awful sorry to see her go.”
“Why would you say that?”
Della pursed her lips. “That innocent look don’t fool me. Buzzer’s about to go off. You mind pulling the pan from the oven?”
“Sure.” Levi grabbed a potholder and did as she asked. “Are those vultures still out front?”
“More than before, even.”
His spirits sank. “I hope they didn’t bother you on your way in.”
“No, sirree. Came in the back way. Maybe it’s best things get back to normal. A body can’t even come and go around here.”
“Mia and I stepped out for a while last night. I was hoping they’d get their fill and leave.”
“Just gave ’em a little tease, and now they want more.” She shook her head. “Mmm, mmm, mmm. Don’t know how they live with themselves, disrupting folks’ lives like they do.”
The ceiling creaked overhead, a sign Mia was up and about. She usually slept later, but maybe she’d finally adjusted to Eastern time—just in time to go home.
He grabbed four muffins and set them on a plate. “Thanks for breakfast. I’m going to go listen to our voicemails.”
There were seventy-two messages. Levi went through each one, painstakingly deleting the press calls and saving the others. There was definitely an uptick in the number of inquiries, and a quick check showed a substantial increase in online reservations.
This was great. Awesome. Probably not the results of his marketing plan, but hey, he’d take it.
He heard noise on the staircase and recognized Mia’s careful stair-by-stair descent. His heart quickened. This might be the last time he heard her come down those stairs. From now on he’d only see her on TV or at the movies—and online because, let’s face it, he was going to look her up.
A moment later she rounded the corner, and her eyes brigh
tened as they settled on him. “Good morning.”
That smile hit him like a blow to the chest. “Morning, Mia. You’re up early.”
She wore a casual red shirt that looked amazing on her and a pair of white shorts he hadn’t seen before. If she hoped to get through the airport unnoticed in that, she was going to be disappointed.
“I didn’t sleep very well. I made myself stay in bed until I heard others up and about.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you might sleep better after facing down the reporters last night. Are you hungry? Miss Della’s apple cinnamon muffins are incredible.”
“That sounds great, but . . .” She stepped up to the desk, tucking her hands into her back pockets. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Sure, of course.” He placed his hands on the desktop and leaned into them, trying not to let his gaze stray from her eyes. “What’s on your mind?”
“I was, um, wondering how you might feel about me extending my stay. I mean, feel free to say no, because I know my being here causes a major problem for you with the crowd outside, but I’m willing to continue paying for the whole inn so the press wouldn’t be an inconvenience to your guests.”
She wanted to stay. Surprise battled with joy for top billing. He tried to fight back the optimism, but it was pointless. The thought of Mia staying made him ridiculously happy.
“Of course you’re welcome to stay. But we couldn’t let you keep paying for the whole place—you could rent out a mansion for that rate, you know.”
“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have my own personal chauffeur.” Her smile ticked up at one corner, her eyes flirting. “And who else is going to bring me cold packs and carry me down mountains when my clumsy side makes an appearance?”
It didn’t escape his notice that those were all things he’d done. She hadn’t even mentioned Della’s muffins or Grace’s way with a dust rag or Molly’s gift of gab—not that he considered that a positive trait.
And the way she was looking at him, he’d move heaven and earth to do her bidding. “I do aim to please. But we really can’t let you rent out the whole inn—we actually have other guests on the books already.”
Carolina Breeze Page 14
